


Christmas Eve, 1936

by AnyoneforteaUS (Thalassatx)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1936, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalassatx/pseuds/AnyoneforteaUS
Summary: This was meant to be posted prior to Christmas, but that didn't work out.  Enjoy Skinny!Steve and Protective!Bucky celebrating Christmas during the Depression.





	Christmas Eve, 1936

Christmas Eve, 1936  
Brooklyn, NY

Bucky stood impatiently in the crowd at the Flatbush Sears Roebuck store. For all the gleam from the glass counters, for all the fancy dressed attendants, they sure as hell were slow. 

He’d gotten off his job at the docks a little early, thanks to somebody giving the boss a bottle of booze, which made him quite generous. “Go on home boys!” he had shouted. “Getcher mom or yer little lady to feed you up good! It’s Christmas!” Bucky didn’t care why, he just knew he had to move quick to get Steve his Christmas present.

Sure, they’d said they weren’t getting each other anything, but he’d finally made Steve agree that if they DID buy anything for the other, it had to be practical. They didn’t have money to waste on anything trivial. Food instead of drawing supplies, for example. Or maybe food instead of hair pomade. It was rough out there. Hoovervilles were still around, and Bucky worried that if anything should happen to him at work or something, or if he lost his job, he and Steve would end up in one of them. Steve’d never survive that. Bucky tightened his jaw at the thought of it. Guess he’d better make sure to be the hardest worker on his shift. And work extras when they’d let him. 

Finally the woman in front of him had made her selection of silk stockings, and was telling the clerk to put it on her account. Well, la-di-dah, her account. Wouldn’t that be nice? To just pick out something stupid expensive and say “Oh Jeeves, just put it on my account”, like he was some kind of rich bitch with diamonds on her fingers? 

“Ahem, sir,” the clerk broke into his thoughts. “May I help you?” Bucky focused and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, doll. Lost in thought. Uh, yeah, I need a pair of them heavyweight Rockford socks.” He nodded as if he did this every day. 

The girl looked disappointed. She probably earned commission and got a lot more off silk stockings than cheap wool socks. “Sir, we’re having a sale on those, actually. Would you like 3 pair for 52 cents?”  
Bucky jingled the change in his pocket. 52 cents was almost two hours wages. But then he thought of Steve’s poor cold toes, and imagined he could hear his hacking cough, and he sighed. “Yeah, three pair’d be fine.”

The girl’s smile returned. “You won’t be disappointed! They are very warm. Some of our best working man socks! They’ll keep you from getting blisters from your boots.” Bucky chuckled. Imagine Steve wearing work boots. “Aww, they’re for my little brother,” he lied smoothly. “He’s kind of sickly,” he added, with a shrug.

The girl’s eyes went soft at that. “Ain’t you a sweet one,” she smiled. “I’m not supposed to offer for something like these, but do you want me to wrap ‘em up real quick?” Her put on accent had slipped back into full Brooklyn. A local girl, Bucky thought with his slick grin. “Yeah, doll, that’d be real nice of ya,” he flirted. She turned away with a shy grin, and quickly wrapped them in some blue paper they had behind the counter. Probably for those silk stockings, he thought, and his grin widened. When she handed them to him, he handed her the change. “If there’s any extra, just keep it,” he said, before looking up with a coy grin. “And maybe I’ll see ya around one of the dance halls some night?” She blushed and nodded. “My name’s Ellie,” she added. He gave her one of his brightest smiles. “Okay Ellie, I’m Bucky, see ya ‘round.”

He stuck the package of socks inside his jacket, and made his way back outside. He glanced up at the clock on the outside of the building, and cursed. “Dammit, Steve’s gonna be worried.”

He ran when he could, and walked quickly when he came to a crowd, but it wasn’t long until he was looking up at their tenement. A warm light shone from the window. Steve was home, probably figuring out what leftovers he could heat up for the two of them. Bucky wished he could do better for them, but they’d gotten pretty lucky. At least their apartment had a toilet. Most didn’t. The kitchen was tiny, just a coal stove and a sink, and the toilet was in a partitioned area, so they had a little privacy. They shared a double bed, after Bucky finally tired of hearing Steve’s teeth chatter in the first winter they lived there. The boy was skinny, and he hadn’t lied when he’d told Ellie he was sickly. Steve hated admitting weakness though. He’d have frozen his balls off before admitting he was cold, so one night Bucky had just gotten up with a put-upon sigh and shoved him towards the wall, climbing under the covers. “I can’t fucking sleep with you up here chompin’ your teeth. Move it so I can at least be warmer listenin’ to you.” Steve had protested vehemently, and Bucky had shrugged. “Fine, you get in the floor, then.” Steve’s brow had furrowed stubbornly, and Bucky had grabbed him. “Stay yer ass right there, punk,” he grumbled. I’m cold and you are too, so shuddup and gimme some of that blanket.”

The next night, Steve had gone to bed, but scooted close to the wall. “No point in either of us bein’ cold I guess,” he had said, without looking back over his shoulder. Bucky had smiled, and climbed in after him. By the time summer rolled around, they were accustomed to each other, and only on the hottest nights would Bucky move back to the floor after Steve fell asleep. He hated the heat, and he didn’t want Steve to get too hot either. But Steve went to sleep easier if Bucky was there.

Bucky took the three flights of stairs two at a time, and when he unlocked the door and stepped in, the apartment felt warmer than usual. And it smelled amazing. “Steve? What are you doing?” 

Steve turned away from the stove. “Where’ve you been? I nearly burned this waiting for ya!” Bucky’s eyes widened. “Steve, what are you cooking?”

Steve flushed pink. “I’m just kind of reheating. To be honest, Mrs. Conerly did the most of it, but I bought everything!” He stepped back, and Bucky moved closer. “A pot of beans?” Steve frowned. “Yeah, they’re good for ya! And they’ll reheat real good for awhile. You can take ‘em in your lunch pail tomorrow.” Bucky smiled. “They won’t be warm by lunchtime, punk. It’s cold as balls out there!” Steve laughed at first, then he frowned. “Try not to get too cold, Buck. Don’t need you getting sick.” 

Bucky grabbed him in a playful headlock. “I ain’t getting sick, runt. That’s your expertise.” Steve pushed him off. “I ain’t gonna show you what’s in the oven then. Callin’ me a runt,” he grumbled. 

Bucky smiled at him coyly. “Then I guess I don’t need to show you what I got inside my coat.” He turned around, as if to walk into the bedroom. “Hey! Get back here!” Steve insisted, grabbing the sleeve of his coat. “I’ll show ya what I got if you show me what you got!”

Bucky had to pause, stifling his urge to bust out laughing. “Really Steve-o? You’re gonna show me what you got?” he asked, adding a lewd wink to it as he turned around towards him. Steve turned much pinker than he had been earlier. “Oh fudge, Bucky! You know what I meant, you pervert!”

Bucky did start laughing then. “Okay, okay, show me the oven, then I’ll show you.” Steve, still blushing, cracked open the oven just enough for Bucky to peek in, but the scent coming out was divine. “Steve, is that a pie?” His eyes went wide with delight. Steve looked a little sad. “I couldn’t find anybody who could make a pie. Everybody is busy baking for their own family. But it’s baked apples and pears. I got ‘em on sale and I put a little brown sugar on ‘em and maybe they’ll be-“ He was cut short as Bucky pulled him into a hug. “They’ll be great, Stevie. Thanks a lot.”

Steve nodded. “Now show me!” Bucky pulled out the blue paper package, disappointed that it had gotten so wrinkled. “What’s that Buck?” Steve asked, looking a little alarmed. “You better not have bought me something expensive.” Bucky chuckled. “Wasn’t expensive.” Steve looked skeptical. “Then why’s it all fancy?”

Bucky shrugged with a little grin. “Can’t help it if the girl thought I was cute. Or sweet. I can’t remember. But she offered to make it fancy, and I let her.” Steve frowned disapprovingly. “What else did you let her do?” he grumbled. Bucky winked at him. “Nothing, man! She was working! But you know, if I should see her again….” Steve smacked his arm. Bucky laughed and pushed the package at him. “You gonna just stare at it or ya gonna see what’s inside?”

Steve took it from him reluctantly. “Bucky, swear to Jesus this better not have cost you much money,” he warns as he unties the ribbon. Bucky just watches him as he pulls the paper open. “Socks? You bought me socks?” he asks, bewildered. Bucky protests, “You were the one who said practical! You said if I got you anything, it couldn’t be a waste of money! And these socks are supposed to be the warmest ones, so you don’t get so cold and you won’t get sick so easy!” 

Steve purses his lips, then blinks. “You, uh, got these so I wouldn’t get sick?” His voice sounds a little husky. Bucky nods, “Yeah. I feel so bad for you when you’re sick.” Steve wouldn’t make eye contact. “That’s, that’s real nice Bucky. Thank you.” Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “So it’s okay?”

Steve finally looks up, and his eyes are a little damp. “Yeah, Bucky. More than okay. Thanks for worrying about me. I know I’m a pain in the tush, and you get real tired of me coughing and stuff….” Bucky frowned deeply. “That ain’t why, dumbass. I don’t want you to go and die on me or something. I mean, I wouldn’t miss them cold toes on my legs at night, but I’d miss, ya know, other stuff about ya.” He realized he was pretty pink himself right now. “Just don’t…c’mere.” He pulled Steve into a hug. “Merry Christmas, ya mook.” 

Steve hugged him back, and Bucky thought he heard him sniff a little against his chest, but he didn’t say anything about it. “So Stevie, you gonna feed me or what? I’m so hungry I could eat a sewer rat, so you better have something on the table pretty damned quick!”

Steve laughed at that. “Like I’m your little woman? I ain’t yer wife, Barnes!” Bucky knuckled the top of his head. “Nah, Stevie, you’re better than a wife. A wife wouldn’t be as much fun. ‘Cept at night, ya know,“ he teased, leering. Steve shoved him as he pried himself out of the hug. “Shaddup. Go sit down and I’ll bring in the beans and bread.” 

Bucky sat down on the sofa, pulling over the table he’d found when someone threw it out in the alley. They didn’t have much, but they were both pretty good at salvaging what someone else didn’t want. Steve came over with the piping hot bowls, and a plate with some bread he’d bought from a German woman downstairs. He didn’t know her name, but she baked pretty good bread and sold it cheap, especially when it was day old. They didn’t have any butter, but they could soak it in the bean juice. He had turned off the gas to the stove to conserve. After they had each cleaned their bowls, he went back for the apples and pears. 

While he was bent over the stove, Bucky watched him with a fond smile. Steve had never enjoyed cooking, probably because they had to make do with the cheapest of everything, but he’d pulled out all the stops tonight. This was probably the nicest Christmas Eve he’d ever had, he thought to himself, and immediately felt a twinge of guilt knowing his mother would be so hurt if she knew he thought such a thing. Steve turned towards him. “Hey, bring the bowls back over here, willya?”

Bucky obediently did so. They’d cleaned the bowls out well enough using thick slices of the bread to soak up every drop. Steve put one apple and one pear in each bowl. They took them back over to the sofa and then Bucky remembered something. “Oh, Jack Benny’s show is on tonight! I think they recorded it a few days ago!” He got up and turned on the radio, before he sat back down. Soon they were laughing as they finished off the fruit. “Ain’t that guy a gasser?” Bucky managed to say between giggles. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but he coughed instead, and then coughed again, harder. He looked at Bucky with watery eyes as his face reddened. 

Bucky immediately put his bowl on the floor to put his hands on Steve, one palm on his back, the other over his heart. “Okay Stevie, calm down. Just try to breathe with me, okay? In real slow, and then back out, okay Stevie?” His own eyes were sad, and he gently rubbed circles on Steve’s back. Steve nodded at him, and tried to control his breath, but he kept coughing through the inhale. “It’s okay, you’re sounding better,” Bucky encouraged. “Easy in, easy out, yeah?” He was nodding at him, getting Steve to nod back, and finally Steve’s cough subsided. “There ya go, pal, you’re fine, see?” 

Steve blinked tears away, and focused on deeper breaths, and Bucky gently reached up and wiped his cheeks with his fingertips. “Stevie, don’t you ever leave me, okay? So don’t you go getting sick this winter. I’m going to keep you as warm as I can.”

Steve made a wry face, and hoarsely responded. “Can’t keep the stove on all the time, too much gas,” he croaked. Bucky smiled at him. “Then you’re gonna wear those damned socks, and we’re gonna have to get a warmer blanket for ya or something. Maybe I can find a secondhand quilt or something.”

Something warm blossomed in Steve’s chest at that, and he blushed. “Aw, Buck. I’ll be okay. You, uh, you take real good care of me.”

Bucky’s smile warmed more. “Yeah, well somebody’s got to. You don’t have enough sense to look after yourself.” He slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Go on and get in bed. I’ll wash up, then I’ll come join ya.” Steve nodded. “Okay, but can ya leave the radio on til you come back?” Bucky made a little face. “I dunno Stevie. Don’t want you laughing too hard and getting yourself all riled up again.”

Steve somehow made his eyes bigger and more pitiful. “I promise I won’t, Buck. I’ll just listen. Or, or you could put it on some music?” Bucky nodded, “Now that I can do. Just don’t jump up and start dancing or nothing.” 

Steve giggles. “Ain’t likely, now is it?” Bucky got both bowls and headed back toward the sink, while Steve got up and went into the little bedroom. He changed into his pajamas, then stepped into the tiny toilet space to piss. When he was done, he padded back and climbed into the bed. The sheets were so cold, but he curled in on himself and focused on the music coming from the next room until Bucky turned off the lights and the radio, and came back there too.  
Bucky pulled off his shirt, and turned his back to shed his pants and boxers, before pulling on his flannels and going to do his own business. When he came back in, he sat on the edge of the bed for a long moment. Steve’s voice came out from under the blanket. “Whatcha doing, Bucky?” Buck smile as he turned off the lamp. “Nothin’ man. Just thinking of all the food Ma’s gonna have for us when we go over there tomorrow.” Steve made a humming sound. “Yeah, so come on and get to bed. I’m freezing my ass off.”

Bucky snickered and slid under the covers to join him. “Merry Christmas, Rogers,” he said as he pulled him into his chest. Steve nuzzled into him with his cold nose, and Bucky playfully thumped his head. “Turn over, you oddball. I’d rather have your cold feet than your cold beak!” Steve giggled. “But you can have both!” he offered as he squeezed his feet between Bucky’s calves. “Dammit Steve! Why didn’t you put your socks on?” he grumbled. Steve snickered and turned over, letting Bucky wrap himself around him. “Sorry,” he said, and Bucky could tell by his voice that he was smiling. “I’ll wear ‘em tomorrow.” He pressed the soles of his feet against Bucky’s shins, and Bucky barely stopped himself from kissing the top of his head. 

As Steve relaxed into sleep, and his breathing evened out, Bucky pressed a little closer. “Merry Christmas Steve”, he whispered. “Love you.” He pressed his cheek against Steve’s silken hair and dozed off himself.


End file.
